The 4th Quarter Quell
by hamham9240
Summary: The daughter of Katniss's sister, Prim, is reaped for the 100th Hunger Games. Rated T for mild violence (ie killing)


**Author's note: Okay, first off, this is my first story, so thanks so much for reading! Second, what would have happened if Katniss died in the arena? If Peeta was never captured by the Capitol, if District 12 was never fire-bombed, if the survivors were never moved to District 13, if Prim never died, if Gale never moved to District 2, what would the next generation be like? This is the story of Prim's child and the 4th Quarter Quell. I'll update this every Saturday. Enjoy, and thanks again for reading!**

"...rel. Laurel. Wake up, Laurel!" my says a kind voice, shaking me awake gently. "Time for school." "...mmmmmm... Good morning, Mother," I groan sleepily but happily. She smiles at me and kisses my forehead. "Put your uniform on and let's make a special breakfast for you, okay?" she asks. I sit up, rub my eyes, and nod. "M'kay," I agree.

I slowly pull on my blue and gray dress. It has the white eagle of Panem on it, along with the black letters PJH12, meaning Panem Junior High District 12. I catch my reflection in the mirror. Olive skin, black hair, blue eyes, and a tall frame. I tie my hair back in a ponytail and go to the kitchen, if you could even call it that. In my mind, a dusty, dirt floor, 20 foot room with a wood stove and a table for three is not a kitchen. But, hey, when you live in the Seam, what can you do about it?

Mother tells me about her life at the Victor's Village. So much money, so much food, hot showers, three floors carpeted or with hardwood floors that never leak from the roofs... oh, it sounds perfect. She says she misses it a lot, and from time to time, when she's not aware I'm in the room, she'll grumble about chicken stuffed with orange cream and something called hot chocolate. I could use some chocolate now. I think. I've never tried it before.

I walk in, grab a plate, and turn the bread toasting over the fire. Raisin bread, my favorite. We get it every once in a while. An apple comes flying at me from the hallway, which I barely catch, and out walks my father. "Daddy!" I say, getting up and hugging him. He laughs and twirls with me in his arms. Mother comes over and kisses us both. "Morning, Gale," she says, planting a peck on his cheek. He grins back. "Hi, Prim. Was the night rough?" he asks, placing a hand on her stomach. Mother has been pregnant for a few months now. She shakes her head. "Fine, I was fine." We settle at the table.

The bread is ready by now; Mother breaks it between us, giving Daddy a medium piece, me a huge piece, and taking only enough to fit in her palm for herself. Then we cut the apple; the portions follow the sizes of bread. Once again I have a large, juicy apple slice. I am the only one who gets milk, as well. But I only eat half and give my remaining loaf and piece of fruit. Then I say goodbye and walk to school.

School is okay. Mother says I take after her personality, so since I'm like her, I'm kind and happy most of the time. But every once in a while, I get quiet and moody. Anyways, my point is that I'm not exactly popular, but I'm well liked by everybody. On the way, I make a right turn and stop at a brick house. Mayor Gurnee's daughter, Junie, is a good friend of mine, and we usually walk to school together.

I like to learn, but I get tired of school. If only we had some sort of... summer...vacation, I guess...? I'd really like that. Between milking the goat and learning how to be a healer at the apothecary my mother has, school kind of sinks in the middle. If I had a break, I might be able to perfect stitching, or learn how to make non-soggy cheese. Today, at lunch, Eva sits down with Junie and I. "Hey, girls," she grins. I smile back politely and say, "Hi, Eva. how's it going?" She shrugs. "Alright. Mom just had the new baby, so you know. Lots of screaming and diapers. Zarrak's a stinky little one," she says, which makes Junie giggle. "Did you hear about that announcement?" Junie asks. "I hear it's coming from the Capitol, so it must be mandatory." I tilt my head. "What's it about?" I ask. Eva shakes her head and Junie shrugs. Hmm. Guess I'll have to wait til tonight.

As usual, Daddy comes home at 4:00, two hours after school is over for the day. He's laced with coal and has a nasty cough. I give him Mother's prescription honey and start milking the goat. At 6:00, when Mother is finished with her apothecary lessons, we settle down with our old satellite TV and wait for it to turn on with the seal of Panem. When it finally does, an image of President Alina Black appears. She waves to her "loyal" citizens in the Capitol and addresses us in the Districts. "It is time," she crows. "Time to announce the guidelines for the 4th Quarter Quell, the 4th reminder that the Capitol will rise from the ashes of whatever perishes. In the first Quarter Quell, as a reminder that the war was the Districts' desicion of violence, the tributes were voted upon. In the second Quarter Quell, as a reminder that two Capitol citizens died for every rebel, twice the amount of tributes were shipped to the arena. In the third Quarter Quell, as a reminder that even teh strongest of victors cannot overcome the Capitol, the remaining pool of victors would be reaped."

She hesitates, and I feel like she's staring straight at our home, into my face, into my mother's, my father's. Horrifying. She keeps staring as she adds, "Mind you, the second rebellion was prevented and demolished at the gruesome death of the mediocre Katniss Everdeen." Then a clip of her death is broadcasted live. Daddy starts cursing. "Curse the Capitol! How dare they just ! #$ show her death like that! It's just ! #$% disgusting!" he rages. Mother is sobbing and pulls me close. She tries to hide the screen, but I can still see. There is my Aunt Katniss. I look like her, mostly. She looks like Daddy, and even with a bloody arm she looks beautiful. Maybe it's her braid. I should try that sometime. Then, when Johanna Mason- I think- tries to stab her again, she jerks and Katniss is accidentally stabbed in the heart. My mother howls. "NO! TURN IT OF, GALE! TURN IT OFF TURN IT OFF TURN IT OFF!" But swe can't turn it off, it's an important, national broadcast, so Daddy calms down enough to carry her in his lap and rock a bit until she calms down. She burries her face in his chest, heaving slow, wailing, heaving sobs. They show the death in full; Johanna Mason running away at the sound of her cannon, Peeta seeing her and throwing a knife, cannons too close to each other to distinguish, and the trumpets blaring Peeta's victory. The screen fades back to the gray eyes of President Black.

"And this year, as a reminder that all rebels perished, even the youngest children, only children from the ages of 12 to 14 will be reaped," she finishes without missing a beat. Like nothing happens. "_Sick_," I say aloud. "That is all. My fellow citizens of Panem, you are dismissed until the Reaping Day." is her only addressal of farewell. The Seal of Panem shows up, along with the Anthem.

But still, three months later, when my name is called, and I'm looking at my family, friends, my neighbors, people I have seen in the streets or that I have healed, I still don't understand until it finally sinks in.

_My name is Laurel Hawthorne. _

_I am 13 years old. _

_I am headed to the 4th Quarter Quell. _

_And I am about to die. _


End file.
